


Respite from Heartache

by SOFreddie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut, mentions of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:15:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOFreddie/pseuds/SOFreddie
Summary: Sam and Reader have to pretend to be a couple for a case, but Reader isn’t sure she can handle it.





	Respite from Heartache

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission. Contact me for your own!

Being a hunter was a hard enough life. Being a female made it even worse. Sprinkle in a hearty dose of thunder-thighs and a full set of spare tires ‘round the middle, and garnish with hunting alongside the Winchester Brothers…well, that’s just a recipe for misery and loneliness. At least, that’s what I’ve come to discover. **  
**

Now, truth be told, I preferred hunting with Sam and Dean than hunting alone. It was always nice to have back-up, not to mention help with getting your wounded ass up and back to safety. But sharing close-quarters? Small motel rooms where we had to live practically in each other’s pockets…it was somehow a blessing and a Hell.

The blessing came when I’d catch glimpses of one of the God-like hunters, dressed nowhere near what could be considered 'decent’ as they changed, tended to wounds. Seems they always found a reason to show a little skin, but I made sure my stolen glances were never noticed. I was also very careful to make sure I tended my own wounds, played down my injuries, changed behind closed doors. I never let them see me. I couldn’t bear the looks if they had. Especially Sam.

_Sam_. The object of all my affection and frustration. He is everything - to me at least - and it’s not just looks. I mean, the man is tall, broad, muscular, devastatingly handsome. But it’s so much more than that. It’s the way he can be so sweet and kind, like when he talks to grieving families. Or his intelligence, how easily research comes to him, how many languages he can decipher, the ideas alone that come to his mind, just…Sam is everything.

But I’d never tell him. How could I? I’m fat, let’s not sugar-coat it. Or maybe the sugar-coating is my problem. I see it every time we go somewhere as a collective. Eyes land on the brothers, girls and guys alike drooling over themselves. Then the eyes inevitably shift to me and I see it, every time. The questioning, the confusion. They can’t understand how someone like me could even stand beside someone like them, and I don’t blame them. I ask myself the same thing constantly.

I try not to think about it much, push it deep down into the dark recesses of my being. But right now I’m freaking the fuck out.

“Y/N,” Dean sounded irritated, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I turned my attention to him, confused as I’m not sure when I mentally drifted off, “You alright? I was talking about the case and you just spaced out.”

“Yeah,” I shook my head, trying to will those thoughts back down, “Yeah, I-I’m good. Sorry.” I gave him a small smile and he looked at me as if he wasn’t sure, but thankfully he let it go.

Dean and Sam continued to talk about the case as we gathered around the small motel table. Three people had already turned up dead in the last two weeks. The cause of death was different for each of them but equally gruesome. The only thing we found in common was that each victim had been seeing the same couple’s counselor.

“I already scheduled the appointment Dean,” Sam groaned, shaking his head at his brother, “Y/N and I have an appointment this afternoon.”

“Wait, what?” Damn, I spaced out again. “An appointment?”

“Yeah,” Sam narrowed his eyes as he shrugged, “The counselor only sees couples. So I figured we could go in and scope the place together. We should probably come up with a story though,” he added as he lowered his head in thought. **  
**

“Can’t we just…I dunno, sneak in at night and gank 'em?” My voice was a little squeakier than I’d like and both of them noticed it. In a  _relationship_? With  _Sam_? I’m gonna die before we even make it to the appointment.

“We gotta be sure. You two will be bait. I’ll be waiting by as back-up.”

“But-” My train of thought was cut short as Sam’s large hand wrapped around my own, squeezing reassuringly as he gave me that lopsided grin of his…damn his stupidly handsome face.

“I got your back, Y/N.” Despite the screaming voice in the back of my mind, Sam did manage to put me at ease. He always does. I couldn’t speak, just nod in agreement as I wondered how in the Hell I was gonna get through this.

“Mr. Wesson and Ms. Smith?” the chirpy, young assistant smiled at Sam and me as she ushered us into an office at the back of the unassuming home. Sam flashed me a smile, before taking my hand in his own - most likely for appearances and to stop my nervous fidgeting - and followed the young girl, “Dr. Rosenberg will be with you shortly,” she offered, closing the door quietly behind her.

I immediately released Sam’s hand once the door was closed, settling in on the little two-seater couch in the room. Sam took the opportunity to examine the room, the framed degrees on the walls, the books, and decor along the bookshelves, before the door opened once more, revealing what we assumed to be the doctor.

“Hi, welcome,” the woman stated, reaching forth to shake our hands and moving to sit behind her desk as we took our seats, “I’m Dr. Rosenberg, and you are Sam Wesson and Y/N Smith?” she asked, looking up from her file and the initial paperwork Sam had carefully completed, “So, what brings the two of you to me?” she asked with a warm smile. I felt like her eyes were judging, boring into me, and I couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably under her intense gaze. It was the same look I saw wherever we went - why is  _she_  with  _him_?

When I didn’t speak up, Sam was quick to fill the void, placing a hand just above my knee as he spoke, “Well, we’ve been partners for a couple years now and I guess we just decided a little maintenance would help keep us on the right track.”

_Partners_. Well, that much was true. I had actually only been hunting with the brothers for about a year when they saved me on a hunt. I was so enamored with the world of the supernatural. When they ran into me on a hunt a month later, they strongly voiced their disapproval. But Sam had insisted I join them. He said they could use the company, but I just assumed he didn’t want the guilt if something happened to me. I was so deep into my hero-worship and awe of them that I giddily accepted, and never left.

“Sweetheart?” My attention was drawn to Sam as his eyes showed his concern, silently asking if I was okay. I really needed to stop drifting off in thought.

“Yeah, sorry,” I barely spoke, shaking my head and forcing a smile. I noticed the doctor looking between us, a crease in her forehead as she no doubt studied us. I took a deep breath, noticing the lovely aromatherapy scents in the room, and suddenly feeling a sense of calm wash over me. **  
**

“Does that happen often?” Dr. Rosenberg asked.

“Sometimes,” Sam added with a tight smile.

“It’s nothing, really,” I insisted, forcing myself into this role and taking Sam’s large hand into my own, squeezing it slightly.

“I get the sense you’re uncomfortable,” the doctor pointed out, “Not just here though. You seem to have an issue with intimacy with Sam.”

Yeah, issue. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m constantly torn between wanting him to touch me and utter fear of rejection. I’ve seen the types of women he used to go home with - it’s admittedly been quite a while since that last happened - and I know I’m just not his type.

“Is that how you really feel?” Sam suddenly spoke and I looked at him in confusion. I glanced at the doctor who shared a similarly worried expression before looking back at Sam and realizing I must have spoken aloud.  _Oh crap!_

“I-I…uh…” Shit, shit, shit. Not only did I just manage to probably ruin our case, but also my friendship with Sam.

“Sam? How do you feel about Y/N’s comment?” the doctor pressed.

Sam’s eyes never left mine as he spoke, “She’s never been more wrong,” he stated firmly, “I know I don’t show it, but she’s exactly what I want.”

Now,  _that_  definitely confused me. But what was more concerning was the look on Sam’s face saying he too didn’t mean to speak that aloud. How were we both fucking this up so badly?

“It appears to me, Sam, that your lack of attention is causing Y/N to feel insecure and unwanted,” Dr. Rosenberg pointed out, somewhat harshly. Before either of us could comment, Sam’s phone went off with a text. He looked at the screen, seeing the message from Dean:

**_Went to the morgue. All vics had traces of Valerian root in their blood._ **

“Valerian…” Sam said, his mind feeling fuzzy. Why would he say that? Valerian was a strong, natural hypnotic and…oh! Was that why we were so openly and involuntarily speaking our minds?

“What was that?” the doctor asked, not having made out the words Sam spoke directly to Y/N.

“Valerian,” I said, rising to my feet and staring her down. Now that I was aware, I could smell the bitter undertones beneath the other aromas filling the room. My head swam, a bit foggy, as I tried to make myself focus.

“Ah, yes,” the doctor said, relaxing back in her seat, “I find the best way to get people to be honest is to help them really relax,” she grinned, “I really do try to help people,” she explained, rising from her seat and rounding the desk, “But so often I see couples where one partner is breaking down the other, stealing their life and essence, and completely ignoring the pain and hurt it causes them,” she glared at Sam as if her words were meant entirely for him. **  
**

“So you kill them?” Sam accused, rising unsteadily to his feet.

The doctor had the audacity to look offended, “I would never!” she exclaimed, “Those clients killed themselves. While it was unfortunate and tragic, I had nothing to do with that.”

“Yet each of them sought you out and according to their grieving partners, had each done some wrong to them in some way,” I added accusingly.

“I’m calling my lawyer. You should leave,” she demanded, rounding her desk once more and reaching for her phone. As Sam and I both moved towards her, the office door burst open, the young and lively assistant grinning wickedly as she held a hand out before her, sending an invisible blast that knocked them all off their feet.

“I don’t think so,” she said sternly.

“Areona, what-” Dr. Rosenberg tried to berate her assistant.

“People need to pay for the heartache they cause,” Areona stated, “They just go around, breaking hearts, making people feel drained and empty and unwanted-” she fought back her own emotional tide, I could see it in the way she swallowed hard and tried to control herself, “A simple spell in conjunction with the Valerian root makes them take care of the problem themselves.”

“You’re a witch,” I growled at her, “And you’re killing innocent people!”

“You’re Hunters!” she retorted, “And they had it coming!” she growled, stepping closer to Sam and clenching her outstretched hand into a fist, causing Sam to writhe in pain on the ground.

“Stop it! Let him go!” I demanded. I couldn’t move and I felt absolutely helpless as I watched Sam at my feet, his cries of agony breaking my heart into a thousand pieces.

“I’m doing you a favor,” Areona protested, “He doesn’t treat you right. He doesn’t appreciate you the way you deserve. I can see the heartache written on your face. Let me help you and make him pay for the hurt he caused.” she twisted her hand once more, inflicting more pain on Sam.

“I will kill you, Witch-Bitch! Let. Him. Go!” I roared at her, desperately struggling against my invisible bonds.

“I think I’ll kill him first, then you,” she said, looking up at me. As fear and panic gripped my insides, churning them into a complex structure of knots, I closed my eyes. I couldn’t watch her kill Sam in front of me. All of that was interrupted by the sound of a single gunshot ringing out. I opened my eyes, seeing the shocked expression on Areona’s face before she dropped to the ground, a bullet wound bleeding out from her back. I looked up to see Dean, smoking gun still pointed at the dead witch on the ground.

Sam gasped as he was released from the pain she had inflicted and he rose to his feet, coming to stand beside me. **  
**

“Are you okay?” he asked, cupping my face in his hands.

“Me?” How could he ask about me when he was the one who was hurt? “I’m fine. What about you?”

He smiled warmly at me, “I’m good,” he said, placing a lingering kiss on my forehead. If I wasn’t so wound up from all that had happened I might have been shocked at the gesture.

Dean had talked to the doctor, filling her in on what had happened, before cleaning up the mess. The ride back to the motel was silent. A big part of me hoped the whole thing would be discarded like the witch and we could forget about the potential awkwardness from what transpired.

When we reached the motel, I was quick to leave the car and head for the motel room. I let myself in and dropped myself onto the end of one of the beds, cradling my head in my hands. I looked up when the door closed, to find only Sam standing there, the sound of the Impala’s engine drifting off in the distance.

“Where’s Dean going?” I asked, surprised my voice wasn’t shaky.

“Food,” Sam said, letting out a sigh and dropping on the end of the bed beside me, “I think we should talk.”

“Sam,” I groaned, “Can we just let this go? Chalk it up as another completed hunt and move on?” I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t bare the speech I knew was coming:  _We’re friends, hunting partners. I don’t like you that way._

“I can’t do that, Y/N.”

I nodded, feeling the tears rise to my eyes but fighting with all I had to compose myself.

“Do you want me to leave?” My voice was so small and I hated it. But I couldn’t manage to muster enough strength to sound anything more than weak and scared and I knew he could hear it too.

“You must not have heard me back there when I said you are exactly what I want, Y/N. I just never thought you’d feel that way about me.”

My head turned rapidly in shock at his statement. He wanted me? How could he not think I wanted him?

“How…but I’m…”

“You’re what? Sexy? Badass? Caring? All of those are true, you know?” he smirked playfully, but I could see his nervousness in his gestures.

“But I’m not,” I shook my head, lowering it in shame as I focused on my fidgeting hands in my lap. I jumped in surprise when Sam’s large hand covered over both of my own. I looked up at him then, meeting his mesmerizing eyes.

“I realized today that someone I love had absolutely no clue how I felt about them. Not even an inkling,” he paused, gauging my reaction which I’m sure was absolutely stupefied, “When the doc said my lack of attention made you feel insecure and unwanted…” he swallowed hard, shaking his head, “I don’t ever want you to feel that way. Especially because of me. You are loved, you are wanted, and I swear, if you let me, I’ll chase all those insecurities away.”

I died today. The witch killed me. It’s the only explanation my mind could come up with to explain what was happening. **  
**

“You can’t,” I stood abruptly, my nerves and emotions getting the better of me.

“I can,” Sam said, rising from the bed and standing before me, taking my hands in his own, “and I do.”

“Sam-”

“Do you want this? Us?” he asked, suddenly unsure.

I nodded slowly, “Of course I do. You’re everything, a-and I love you.” Proverbial forehead smack, word vomit. I shouldn’t have said that. But there it was, out in the open. Nothing to do now but accept the repercussions of my actions.

“I love you too.” Before my brain could fully process, his lips were pressed against my own and suddenly everything went quiet. I could only feel, and what I felt were warmth and want and love. A moan escaped my lips against my will and I could feel Sam smile as his hands found my face, tilting my head so he could deepen the kiss.

I could feel him turning us, moving us somewhere and when I felt the bed hit the back of my calves, I knew where this was going.

“Sam, wait,” I pulled myself from the kiss, looking into his lust-blown eyes and a shiver ran down my spine, “C-Could we maybe turn the lights off?”

“Am I really that bad?” he chuckled, making a little nervous laughter bubble up in me.

“Not you,  _me_ ,” I said, looking down. He lifted my chin with a finger, brushing my hair back from my face.

“I  _want_  to see you, Y/N.”

“Okay,” I breathed out, trying to steal my nerves. When his hands trailed down my body and began to tug at the hem of my shirt, I closed my eyes and quickly pulled it off. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t bear to see the disgust on his face at seeing my rolls and stretch marks, so not beautiful like all the others he’d been with.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, urging me to look at him, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I do. I do want to Sam, it’s just-”

“What is it?” he encouraged.

“I’m fat and curvy in all the wrong ways and nowhere near like the thin and pretty girls you’ve been with before.” When I dared to look at him again, he looked hurt, as if I’d just said those things about him.

“I think you’re beautiful,” he said as he ran his fingertips over my collarbone, down the valley of my breasts, and over my stomach, before gripping my sides, “I love your curves,” he said as his hands trailed over them, “Like a winding mountain road leading to home,” he smiled, “You’re so strong and graceful as hell when you fight. Not to mention this glorious ass,” he said, his hands trailing over my hips to squeeze my ass, pressing me tighter against him, “God, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been distracted by this plump and luscious ass of yours, Baby.” **  
**

Well… _that_  certainly stirred a fire within my belly. Never in my life had anyone talked about my body the way he was. Somehow I knew, deep down, he really meant it.

“You can be quite distracting yourself,” I whispered, daring to be daring. He smiled, reaching behind him to grab the collar of his shirt and whipping it off, tossing it aside as he brought our bodies together once more. I let out some sort of choked noise as the vast planes of his muscled torso was laid bare for me. For  _me_. I was staring, I knew it, but I couldn’t stop it. Much as he had done before, I slowly trailed my hands over his skin, feeling the warmth, every dip, and line that defined him.

When he let out a soft sound, I looked up to see his eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. That’s when I felt the goosebumps forming on his body under my hands. Was it possible he was just as affected by all of this as me? The thought made me bold as I reached up, pulling him down to me by his neck and latching my lips on his.

My hands found the waist of his pants and I began unfastening them, nipping at his lips hungrily as I grew bolder with each passing second. He let out a choked whimper and I swear I had never heard anything more erotic in my life. I hoped I’d get to hear it over and over again.

The urgency seemed to build within us as we were quickly stripped bare, the two of us finally finding our way onto the bed. I could feel every inch of him against every inch of me, nothing between us. As he kissed and nipped along the side of my neck, my legs parted. Without missing a beat he worked his hips between them, rutting his impressive and hard cock against my folds. I twitched in anticipation with each pass. If I could think straight, I might have been embarrassed at how wet I was without him having to do much.

He lifted his head to meet my eyes as the head of his cock prodded at my entrance, waiting for my permission. I spread my legs wider, my hands trailing down to his ass and urging him forward.

“Please,” it was barely audible, but I know he heard it. He groaned, kissing me hard as he pressed into me slowly. I broke the kiss, my head thrown back as he bottomed out and I let out a harsh breath at feeling so completely full.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned out through clenched teeth, giving us both a moment to adjust.

“You’re just so  _big_ ,” I countered. Every part of me was stretched wide to accommodate him and in the back of my mind was the thought that, at this moment, my walls were conforming to him and him alone. No one would ever feel right but him.

When he began to move, I gasped, clinging onto him for dear life. He pulled nearly all the way out, before pressing all the way back in, his movements slow and calculated as we simply felt one another. Before long, our bodies became slick with sweat, gliding against one another as his movements picked up slightly, his thrusts punctuated harshly at the end of each stroke. He wanted me to feel him, and boy did I ever. Every vein, every throb, every glorious inch as he worked me inside and out, bringing me closer to a new high I’d only ever imagined possible before now.

“Fuck, Baby, I’m not gonna last,” he huffed out, “You feel too good,” he groaned, his pace quickening once more. **  
**

“I’m so close,” I managed to speak, though not entirely sure how, as my need to come grew to frenzied levels.

“I got you, Baby,” Sam said, sliding his hand between us to rub at my swollen and sensitive clit, “Come for me, Y/N.”

So I did. I couldn’t resist how good he felt, his breath against me, his cock filling me deliciously. I felt my walls squeeze around him like a vice, my hips gyrating as my orgasm rolled through me in waves. I could only feel, the euphoria spreading through my body, reaching the tips of my curled toes and tingling up to my scalp.

As I began to come down from my high, I opened my eyes in time to see Sam suddenly sitting up, his cock in hand as he stroked himself, his cum shooting out and over my stomach. It might have been the first time I looked at my stomach with satisfaction, rather than disgust. I ran my fingers through the mess and absentmindedly brought it to my lips for a taste.

Sam growled at the sight, lunging for me once more and licking himself from my tongue. After cleaning us up, he returned to the bed, laying on his side as he gathered me into his arms and we basked in the bliss together. I suddenly wondered if this was it. Was this all that would happen between us? My body stiffened with my negative thoughts and he must have felt it, as he squeezed me tightly in return.

“Sam?” I had to know. I wasn’t sure if I could live with just the one time, “Was this a one-time thing?” My insecurities couldn’t leave me be, even in a moment of pure bliss, they had to come trolling in to destroy what little happiness I could find.

“This is an every day forever thing if you’ll have me,” he said, looking down at me. I searched his eyes and found only truth and love there and I smiled brightly.

“I think I could live with that,” I teased, pecking his lips. My insecurities wouldn’t disappear overnight, but I knew Sam would be there to help me through them, to always make me feel loved and wanted. I couldn’t ask for more.


End file.
